A Fresh Start
by arelAbella
Summary: When Tywin joined the rebels during the war of the Usurper he made Robert promise to give back his son. It's well past time the King pays his debt to the Lannisters. This is my first time the genre's are spot on, it might be slightly AU I am keeping events mostly the same but I did pick Allyria for a reason and that changes things
1. Chapter 1

Starfall was built right into a cliff in small bay on the eastern side of Dorne; the keep had stood as long as anyone could remember, perhaps as long as there had been men in Dorne. The Daynes, the current occupants of Starfall hoped to keep it that way. The past few years had been incredibly hard on the family; the building had changed little, however. It had all started with Robert's Rebellion, or the better known in these parts as the War of the Usurper.

There was a saying among the small folk and lords alike that you could flip a coin when a Targaryen was born; heads they are sane, tails they are not. Aerys had turned out spectacularly insane, making him both the mad king and the lost of the dragon lords. Starfall had been called to support Prince Doran Martell's banners and also the king's forces. The crown princess being a Martell by birth, but with Ser Arthur Dayne amongst the king's guard the men had had a great desire to fight alongside him too. Not that it had done either of them any good, Dorne and the Targaryen cause was lost and so to was the Sword of the Morning. Arthur's older brother Garlan was slain at the trident along with Lewin Martell and the Prince Rhaegar.

When the war was over one of the rebel lords had the decency to bring back their bones, and also house Dayne's ancestral valaryian blade Dawn, which Arthur had carried with him. Now, Lord Alban Dayne had only daughters left; the very beautiful Ashara, and the much younger Allyria who had been a surprised to everyone. But even this was not to last. Ashara, who had always seemed so strong behind those dark violet eyes, let her grief engulf her. The very afternoon Lord Stark left Starfall she climbed to her towers and jumped. Ashara had not screamed or cried out as she fell into the ocean; as such no one suspected anything for many hours. When there was no sign of her after dinner a search party was organized. It was Darrion, so of the steward who found the body. The boy had gone down to the caves beneath the keep, knowing the girl rather enjoyed the vast emptiness of the place and had perhaps gone in search some solace there. Ashara had been face down on a rock, her legs floating in the shallow water. Where skin was visible it was as white and even as milk. The sight left little doubt to whether the lady was alive, but Darrion did hope, he hoped against logic and reason, he hoped and he prayed to all the seven that the god's would save his lordship this tragedy.

He held her limp and lifeless body that was turning blue from the bruises of crashing against the rocks; the water had also swollen and distorted her features. In life she had been so beautiful, Darrion and some of the other boys used to daydream about her. Now he felt nothing but nausea and sadness. He began to cry as he waded through the caves trying to carry her back home.

Summer had come back in full force to Dorne then, but even in the stifling summer heat Darrion shivered. He was glad he had brought his cloak with him, though refused to thank those cruel gods. He tried to wrap her in it, concealing as much as he could, but there just wasn't enough cloth. He argued with himself about covering her face. "If I cover it," her, he silently chided himself, "they would be unprepared for what they would see. If I don't everyone between here and them will see, even Allyria." He decided to not risk inflicting that sight on a four year-old, Darrion gently brushed the hair off of Ashara's face; wet strands of it clung to his fingers. In life the tresses had been a rich brown with smooth large curls, now it was black, tangled and filled with flotsam from the sea.

He couldn't wait any longer, the Lord and Lady would need to know, and in truth would want too. When they were presented with yet another body they could not contain themselves any longer, they wept openly. Many people of the castle wept with them, Ashara had been loved by all who knew her.

Years passed and everything was done to give their only surviving child happiness, still the shadow of the losses sometimes loomed large over the small family. All too quickly eight name days had gone by and Allyria was almost a woman grown. She was strong curious and bright-eyed, the same color as her father and siblings before her. Allyria was smart and spent many joyous hours in library with the maester, who taught her about the noble houses and histories of Westeros. She even had a good hand for stitches, especially for her age, but rarely had the patience to sit still long enough to really accomplish something.

Another year passes, and so to did her mother. At thirteen Allyria became Lady of Starfall. Though her father was still there she did much more then he in the daily running of the keep.

Three more years and Allyria was a woman long since flowered, she had the same small waist and gracious hips her mother and sister had had. In fact, Allyria had become a very fine looking young woman with long blonde hair that fell mostly straight, she was an average height, being slightly taller then most of the regions women. As such there had been many offers for her head she knew, but her father had rejected them all. Lord Alban did not share his reasons for this, and Allyria did not ask. She suspected that he did not want her to marry and leave him, fearing being alone. Since she had no desire to leave either she lived as if completely ignorant, and it was rather blissful. Here, she was free and there was no man to order her about; Allyria did think favorably on having children, but not enough to desire some lord husband to order her about, telling her what to say do or wear.

The Lord and his daughter were sitting in the library near the fire place, it wasn't lit but that's just were the nicest chairs were located. It was peaceful in the large room, which looked over the yard and small forge of the keep. Allyria was sewing, repairing a small tear in a green riding dress. Allyria repaired almost all of her and her father's clothes and made a great deal of them as well, living her maids with much less to do then other ladies maids. She noticed her father staring rather intensely at her, a habit he had picked up after his wife's death.

The room was lit by the orange glow of the sunset, it was high summer and these were the longest days in Westeros' seasons. So even by nine the room was still light enough without any candles. The gentle light played on Allyria's hair making it seem almost silver in one moment and the next a right gold color. "Father," she whispered in a way that marked it as a question. A letter had come from the capital today with his name on it, though she was very curious Allyria decided against reading it.

"What do you know of the Lannisters?" he asked. It was a strange question for he knew as much as she did, probably more. Even with all of the maesters lessons. They passed a long look, as Allyria hoped the question would change, but it did not.

"They are the lord paramount of the westerlands, wardens of the west, and hold the ancestral seat of Casterly Rock, which is the richest in the entire realm, as it sits on a literal goldmine. Gold is even reflected in their coloring, tanned skin and blonde hair. Some have joked that the current lord Tywin is so cold and hard that he shits gold." Allyria couldn't help smirking knowing her father had an eyebrow cocked in disapproval without glancing to see him.

"And," he called back. And, she thought, what else was there to tell.

"The lions are proud; every house to slight their honor has been destroyed. From their banner men the Reynes or Tarbecks and even the Targaryens." Lord Alban cut her off, "the Targaryens are not destroyed. Allyria couldn't help but laugh out loud "the two in the narrow sea? Yes, they are a great match for Robert. They call the boy Viserys the beggar king." "Better a beggar king then a dead king." her father said. Her father had no forgiveness for the current king and had been sloppy in concealing that contempt. She was glad when he changed the subject, even if it was only to avoid being chastised by her.

"What of the heir?" he asked. The light had finally faded and it was to dark to just sit without candles. Servants entered quickly to light the rooms quickly, it took only a few seconds and they were gone again. "Tyrion is his name, I know next to nothing about him. He is a dwarf, they call him the imp though I am sure hates it. Of course he rather earns it frequenting brothels and taverns. I think he lives in Lannisport, beyond that I know not."

Alban was silent, perhaps finely satisfied. The evening air was full of chirping crickets and the songs of the areas sunbirds. The pine rocking chair creaked occasionally as Lord Alban sat in it. It gave one last low creak as he got up out of his seat walking towards her. In the candle light she looked much more like herself, though she still looked like an angel. Allyria was the lightest of all the Daynes; she had the classic coloring, violet eyes and milk white skin, but most of their line had brown or dark blonde. In the light of the setting sun her hair had looked silver but Alban was so thankful it wasn't, that her hair was to yellow and dark for that. He pulled into a close embrace, stroking her hair and wordlessly handed her the letter.

"_It's past time for me to fulfill a promise; I think your daughter would be a good match for Lannister's heir. I ask that you come to Kings Landing so we can discuss some possible arrangements."_

"He is kind enough to make it seem like a suggestion instead of a royal command," Allyria said after reading it, folding the letter back up rather nervously. "I suppose I will help the servants pack tomorrow, and we will need to reply. How long should I say? A month or is that two long." Allyria was talking fast trying to distract herself, to keep her mind of her soon to be forced marriage. She rushed towards the door continuing to occupy what little of her brain was still functioning.

"I won't make you marry him," her father said, snatching her hand as she passed him. "Oh papa," she kissed his temple, "one man is pretty much like the rest, no matter the size." She had tried to say it with a smile, convincing him that it really didn't change anything. It didn't work, perhaps because Allyria was scared; she wished that she had the ability to reassure herself.


	2. Chapter 2

It was his time to guard the King's chambers; Jaime wondered how Robert would try to annoy him today. Boros Blount was on watch right now, and saw Jaime approaching so he left his post. "Abandoning a bit early aren't we?" Jaime asked as the man walked by. Blount was a coward, a good enough swordsman to earn his place in the guard but he would rather run then fight any day. Today he must have done everything he could to muster up enough courage to reply, "Thought I would give you a wide berth to be a lone with the King and his guests." If Blount had stopped walking Jaime would have hit him. Jaime has wanted to do that for many years, but today it would have been too much. Thankfully he kept on walking, the man's footsteps echoing as he walked through the Red Keep. Jaime took a deep breath before adding his own falling footsteps sounding through the hall.

"Whores," Jaime mumbled to himself fisting the pommel of his sword. It was always whores, that the King could degrade his wife and enrage her twin at the same time made it one of his favorite pastimes. Not that it was very inventive on his part.

The entrance to the King's chambers and solar was sunk into the passageway, whoever was waiting at the door must be sitting on the steps descending towards it, for only a head was visible. She was the cleanest whore Jaime had ever seen, her white her was very clean brushed and well styled. He wished he could say she was the youngest he had ever seen, but that would not be true. She was also very blonde, unusual as Robert's tastes ran towards more brunettes; Jaime was rather disgusted that he knew the man's taste in whores.

The red tile of the keep accentuated the girl's whiteness; her skin and dress were just as white as her hair. "Oh gods no," Jaime said as he came to stand next to her, he hadn't meant to say it out loud. Do not let it be her, he thought. Upon hearing him the girl had stood and turned to face him, he could clearly see her eyes now. "Who are you?" he asked is voice cracking slightly in worry.

"The last one said I could wait here, I have no where else to go. I will leave if it please you, sorry to disturb you ser." She was very small, and seemed frightened of him, which if she was who Jaime found himself praying she was not, then she would have every right to be terrified. She was small, among the vaulted ceilings and large stone columns, but small wasn't the right word, fragile. Rhaella always seemed fragile to him too, as if she didn't really belong here.

"Wait," he practically shouted after her, "answer me."

The girl fidgeted a little bit and lowered her purple eyes causing Jaime's stomach to lurch slightly in nervousness. "Allyria Dayne, ser," she answered quietly.

"Thank the gods," Jaime said louder then he had meant to, and with a laugh. She stopped looking at him for a moment, and appearing very much confused at his relief. Jaime couldn't remember much about the late Arthur Dayne, but doubted very much that he had ever looked confused.

"I have heard it say that I look like them, I never meant one the war started when I was very young. I guess it must be true, though." Jaime only nodded. It was foolish to even think that Daenerys Targaryen would live long enough to speak to anyone in the Red Keep, not with Robert as king. Yet that was who he had thought she was, perhaps it had been craven Blount's warning that set his mind on edge. Even now knowing the truth, it was hard to get past the resemblance. Though he could see the eyes were just a little to dark and the skin yellower and darker too. The blood of old Valaryia, as Aerys took to calling himself had only silver hair never gold.

"Stay if you want, or go, it matters not to me." The girl was so till she could have been a painted statue, like the ones in the castles gardens. She stayed that way for several moments more, and Jaime wanted to say he had no time for sly maiden's games, but that would be false, all he had was time. "Indulge me, sit again," He asked her though there were no chairs just the hard marble steps again. Allyria remained standing. "Why are you alone? Surely your father would not send you to court by yourself."

"I came with my father, we were asked to be the king. Though Father would have much rather ignored the summon and have us both stay at home. Jaime had never met Lord Dayne, but he imagined he had the same streak of loyalty both his sons had. In that Arthur had been loyal to a dead king and prince till the very end, so to would his father, an errand for the new King Robert would not be a welcome one for the Dornish man.

"What was so important to require a royal invitation?" Jaime asked leaning in.

"It's your job to keep the King's secrets, shouldn't you already know?" She asked full of impertinence. The girl was braver and cleverer then he had expected, perhaps the day would not be so dull after all.

The girl was staring straight at him and those piercing eyes made it hard for him to concentrate. Jaime was rarely the one being charmed. Well many maids had tried, but few had succeeded, he was usually the charmer in a conversation. A single strand of hair clung to her lips as Allyria smiled, and Jaime made to move it. The overly intimate moment was stopped by the door opening suddenly. An elderly man stared back at him, with those same purple eyes. The look was brief, but full of anger and very direct at Jaime. The man slammed the door shut before grabbing the girl and practically dragging her away. "Goodbye," she called over her shoulder, "Ser, whatever your name is."

"Jaime," he called back. He hadn't met a person who didn't know who he was already in many years. He smiled at the thought of her innocence; he noticed the girl had smiled too.

The rest of the day went by quietly and without any interruptions by the king himself. Normal days the silence would be welcome, but today it caused Jaime to dwell on memories best left forgotten. Twelve years ago he had been a very different person, a boy who had dreamed of honor. He had wanted to be exactly like the maid's older brother, but life had turned out differently. Jaime tried to remember what Ser Arthur had looked like, he remembered dark hair, and the eyes of course. Mostly he recalled the man's ability with a sword. It was better to dwell on all the tourneys and battles Jaime had seen Ser Arthur fight in then anything else of his once brother.

Sooner then he realized Jaime's watch was over and it was time for supper. Sometimes he had dined with the royal family at his sister's request, but it was always a strained and uncomfortable occasion and Jaime began to resent the invitations. Tonight he would dine alone, or with whomever of his sworn brothers remained in White Sword Tower. He saw Arys Oakheart at the table in the center of the solar where food had been brought. There was a sticky glazed ham and brandy pears, buttered yams and what was likely cold pigeon pie. Jaime made a plate for himself but opted to eat in his chambers, grabbing a skin of wine as he left. The king's guard were servants of the realm and as such didn't have very luxurious accommodations, though they were all sons of some lord or other. Jaime's chambers were not much bigger then the double bed and the basin it contained. It had a nice view though; in fact Jaime suspected that besides the lord commander's room his was the nicest in the tower. His window looked out over the bay, being just over the wall that led to the mud gate. When not on watch duty Jaime passed much of his time looking into the bay watching ships come in. Jaime was not fond of solitude by nature but circumstance had made it the best option, though he would prefer to be in his siblings company to that of anyone else, especially Cersei's.

They were born the same in every way but one, green eyes gold hair tanned skin and wicked smile. They were whole when they were together, that is what Cersei would say at least. He wasn't quite sure he knew what that meant, but he agreed that's what she wanted anyways. Over time they had both changed and spending time with her had become harder as she was less and less the sister he knew. His father marrying her off to the king who drank and whored his days away had turned Cersei hard and cold. Sometimes when she called for Jaime she would crumble and crave his comfort, which outside of a battlefield was when he felt most useful.

There was a warm breeze blowing through the window, ruffling his curls and throwing them into his eyes. The white curtains on the four poster bed moved in the wind as well revealing a piece of parchment there. The note was in his squire's hand but it had been dictated by the queen. He finished his meal, forgetting that he was still dressed all in armor. There would be plenty of time to remove it by himself before going to see his sister. Once the chest plate was off, with it's fastenings in the back, every thing else would kind of slip off. He would put it away more carefully when he returned but for now he left the pieces wherever they fell as he was removing them.

The invitation wasn't for dinner but he was still apprehensive as he reread it. Now he was left in only a thin silk tunic and light cotton breeches, it was too hot under all that metal for anything else. He would be presentable enough for his sister, but he wonder if it would be just his sister. The wardrobe didn't hold very much just breeches tunics and jerkins of various weights. There was a deep burgundy leather jerking and put it on, tying the laces in the front. As he was about to pass through the door he spared a thought for his pants, but decided he didn't care it would be good enough for his sister and that's all that mattered. Lions do not concern themselves with the opinions of sheep, he thought to himself, wondering whether Lord Tywin would consider the king as sheep. Or the crown prince as the case more often was.

It took all Jaime had to be in the same room as the crown prince, what happened to that boy Jaime knew not. Joffery was a spoiled boy and it seemed to turn him cruel and stupid. God help us when he takes the crown, Jaime had thought often enough over the years.

Over the years there had been many clandestine meetings between the twins, but as he was leaving he was glad there was no one about to question his coming and goings. White Sword Tower was closer to the keep, and Cersei's chambers, then other of the castles out buildings but it was still inconvenient when in a hurry. As most of the castle was either preparing food, eating, or cleaning up after someone who had already eaten, the halls were mostly empty. In truth the castles halls were more empty then not, even as you drew closer to the throne room.

From within the keep you took a left and went up to reach the queen's chambers, instead of down for the king. The door was partially hid by a statue of a large water nymph, Jaime knocked quietly on the pine door. He could hear light quick steps coming towards him right before the door open inwards revealing his sister. "Oh brother, dear brother," she said as if that were actually his name and not Jaime. Cersei wore her long golden curls pulled back in a net beaded with pearls; her dress was gold with ivory trim and laced up on the front. She pulled Jaime inside wrapping him in a hug after she had shut and bolted the door. He knew she had some plan in mind but he craved her body and was enjoying the feel of her next to him to much to think about it. "There is nothing I can do about it, I am so sorry dear brother," she said as she stroked his neck, his head on her shoulder.

Her words concerned Jaime and no closeness would calm him now, "What," he asked.

"When father joined the rebellion he asked Robert to release you from the king's guard when he sat the throne. I don't know why he has waited until now to do so, but he told me he intends to see you married." Jaime didn't think before he wrenched open the door, he never did when he was this angry.

"He may be king but he isn't a god," Jaime shouted back at her, practically running down the stairs to confront Robert.


	3. Chapter 3

The previous knight had paid no attention to her, not even asking her name as she sat below him on the steps. Jaime had been much more interesting she had not known it then but in retrospect it was fairly obvious that he could only have been one person, the Kingslayer, besides there was only one Jaime in the king's guard anyways. He is supposed to be the most handsomest man in Westeros, Allyria didn't know if she believed that or not, she didn't know a lot of men to compare him to. Though she was willing to admit that he was a very attractive, that interested her little. She was more intrigued about why a man like Jaime Lannister would seem scared at the sight of her.

"What did they look like papa?" she asked, her father had not said a word to her since before he met with the king,

"Oh much like you my dear," he said kindly, with an absent minded smile. Allyria sighed he had misunderstand and she couldn't help but think he had done it purposefully. "Not my siblings papa," she said slightly exasperated.

"I won't talk about them," he replied with firmness, not that his firmness had ever really counted for much, especially when it came to her. "I hear what they say about me papa, here more so then ever." Once when she was visiting the Martell's, her father's liege lord, she had first been compared to the Targaryens. She remembered it today with Jaime; her mother had made the same face when Oberyn had compared her to the lost Targaryen girl.

"Had she lived you and Rhaeneys would almost look like twins, she was only a moon and a name day older then you. She was small for her age, when I saw her." Lord Alban turned to look at her. "She came with her father, when he had the tourney at your birth. Rhaegar only joined the lists so Arthur could come I am sure of it. The prince never enjoyed those things very much; he had a level head and didn't enjoy playing at war." Lord Alban dropped his gaze, starring at his hands and shaking his head. "What made him snap, take that Stark girl, I will never know. Arthur only had the highest of praise for Rhaegar, but then Arthur…"

Her father was drifting of topic, previous experiences had also taught Allyria that dwelling on Arthur's death was the worst thing for her father. "Surely he had brought Princess Elia when he came," she asked, trying to steer the conversation back.

"Oh yes, yes, he was quite attached to the little bundle, less so to the princess of course," he added almost as an after thought. He laughed a little to himself, though the candle light showed no mirth in his features. "I always was the optimist. Not a very good swords men though, then again a sword and a war hammer are not quite evenly matched, not even dawn." It seemed to Allyria the Lord Alban had forgotten she was even there; he did this before after she had started to wear a pendant favored by her sister. That had ended in tears. Allyria wanted the conversation to continue, and he would talk for hours like this, but she did not want to hurt him either.

"That knight you saw me with, he thought I was Daenerys." Her father mumbled in response rocking softly in his chair.

"Yes Daenerys, younger then you," Allyria felt strange watching and talking with her father as he studied the carpet. He was bound up in a cloak, they are still very far south, only about halfway to the Neck, but her father considered anything north of the red clay hills marking the dornish border north, which was still almost a moons ride from the capital. In truth it was maybe two degrees cooler then it was at home. Lord Alban had even asked for a fire to be lit, but Allyria was able to talk him out of that. She had asked for all the windows to be opened in her chambers, feeling it much hotter here then in Starfall. There was not as much wind, and all the people and humidity from the narrow sea made her overly hot, at night she would have trouble sleeping, and in the morning she would wake up sticky with sweat.

"Jaime," her father said suddenly, surprising Allyria. "He said his name was Jaime, that's important somehow, but I can not remember."

"They call him the kingslayer, because of Aerys papa."

"No," he said rather loudly and almost childishly. "Not about the past, something from today." There was a small whine to his voice and Allyria knew he was growing tired; she faked a yawn, "I am sure whatever it was can wait until tomorrow papa, I have grown rather sleepy." Allyria tried to anticipate her father's needs, and protect his dignity and independence. She kissed his head, feeling the silky thinness of his hair against her lips.

"Thank you for the stories," she said, and with that she left and turned down the hall to her own bed. Other then being a Lannister how could be Jaime be important, she thought as she took off her dress. She took off her shift then and folded both, laying them over the back of a chair. She stripped the bed and lay on the sheets in only her small clothes. Still it took a while for sleep to over take her.

In the morning she woke up lightly covered in sweat, as she had every day since arriving in the capital. She quickly walked to the bath and ran the cold tap, it was a bit early for a cool bath but she couldn't stomach the idea of a hot one; and not washing was not an option. She sat in the tub so long her teeth were chattering, but even at that point she did not want to get out. She did as she knew her father would be expecting her for breakfast. Allyria put on a light green riding dress that was more slip then dress and made her way to her father's, not putting on any under things. Her hair was fine and already starting to dry, though she pulled it back to look a little more presentable, not that her father would care.

The Lord's rooms were quite larger then hers as it was actually two, a small solar was connected to were he slept. The breakfast foods were laid out on the table, and Lord Alban was already eating. "Hello father," she said. There was cold ham boiled eggs sweet breads and two skins, one of wine and another of fruit juice. Allyria took a small dish of strawberries and a slice of ham before sitting down.

"We shall eat and then we will discuss these unpleasant matters," Lord Alban said. Allyria felt a little angry that her father had already decided her marriage would be unpleasant and loveless. They sat silently eating for a while, until the tension of not knowing got to Allyria. "Papa, it is past time we discuss my marriage."

"I tried, I did try, and I wish that I did not have to say this," he said reaching across the table to hold her hand, "would that we were far from here." She knew she was getting married the second they left Starfall, and so did her father. She did appreciate that he wanted something better for her, but it had been hopeless anyways.

"Father, I am far stronger then you think I am, a woman grown. Tyrion is a Lannister; there is honor in that if in nothing else."

Her father gave a little laugh, "it isn't Tyrion, it's not right. It is a dishonor to this house and to him I am sure." He said as if she knew what he was talking about.

"What other Lannister could it be, there is no one else. The letter said heir that is Tyrion. Why would a marriage to me be a dishonor?" Allyria was confused and it was making her angry.

"There is another, Jaime," he said. "But," Allyria started to add. "Yes, the vows. I don't know how he intends to do it but apparently Robert getting the iron throne was conditional upon Tywin, and Tywin was conditional upon getting his son back," That was his disgrace, it was based on Allyria, and to be married to him after that, and after him killing Aerys would be a disgrace to the Daynes; far worse then having married the imp. Yet the news little affected Allyria, she knew as much about Jaime as she had about Tyrion, he was handsomer to be sure and taller; but looks does not make the best foundation for marriages. In the end she decided that it didn't really matter which she married, she would still be married to someone. "Now you see the shame you must bear," her father added, "shame the king has given you." Allyria gave him a stern look, they were not at home and there were spiders everywhere.

"Does Ser Jaime know," she asked, trying to change the subject. Her father was standing looking out the window lost in thought, "know what my child?" he asked. "That we are to be married," she said with a small huff of impatience. Her father shook his head and shrugged in response. Allyria got up for the table, long since finished eating. The chair scraped on the floor as she pushed away. The back of her dress stuck momentarily to the backs of her thighs for having sat for so long.

"Where are you going," her father called out as she was opening the door. "To find my future husband of course," Allyria replied with a smile.

The castle was large and there were many places a young girl could get lost, especially when she wasn't sure where she was going in the first place. If Jaime was anything like every other knight she had ever met or heard of he would be in the yard at practice. Allyria had no idea where that was, but she knew how to get to the godswood and she thought that was a good enough place to start. There wasn't a heart tree in this godswood, there wasn't even a weirwood, and not that she would know what they looked like anyways having never been in the north. She had seen a painting of one, and the maesters had described it to her once, she supposed if you were in a serious bind with the gods the white cherry tree might do. No amount of pink blossoms would put a face in this tree. She felt the bark it was smooth and thin, peeling from the tree in small curlicues.

"Having a crisis of faith?" a familiar voice asked her. She turned around, still holding on to the tree, it was Jaime. He was read faced and shiny with sweat, sign that he had been working at something, his coat was slightly off too, Allyria had been right he was in the yard practicing,

"Even if I was I don't think it would work it's not a heart tree after all. Besides I haven't prayed to the Gods since I was old enough to realize that if they are real, they don't care." Not that she thought the Gods should stop every bad thing that happened, even to good people, she understood that men have the ability to make choices for themselves, but as far as she could tell the Gods old or new hadn't done anything for anyone.

"No, my lady never prayed, not even to the maiden for a good marriage?" Jaime asked tauntingly.

"Nope, and I am not your lady." The garden was made mostly of fruit trees and the apple blossoms scented the air. She brought a few to her nose, and then plucked them, twirling them in her fingers. "If I have a good marriage it is because I find my husband interesting and pleasing because he is funny and kind, and he in turn finds my pleasing.

"And what does my lady think of me." He asked, trying to annoy her.

"I think my lord knows what he looks like," she said walking in front of him, doing her best to stay ahead of his long strides.

"Suppose I have never seen a looking glass," Allyria stopped and turned to face him abruptly the gravel crunching loudly below her feet. She stared at him for a while, looking him up and down, observing all she could about him. He put out his hands and turned for her and it made Allyria smile.

"You are tall, but not monstrously so, you have a lot of strength in your body well defined but still slight enough I could hug you. Your skin is clear and unmarred by scars, at least what I can see of it." Jaime laughed after she that. You are tan, I am sure some idiot or silly maiden has called you golden, as ridiculous as it sounds it would not be far off. He smiled at the smarminess of her description of his looks. "Your smile though, when it is genuine and not a smirk, is nice and warm. You should smile more, you seem younger and you have nice teeth, straight and white."

"Wait," he stopped her in all seriousness, "I look old?"

"Not old, older, there is a difference. Besides people like it when you are happier, I prefer happy people

"You don't always get what you want," Jaime said knowingly with out a trace of condescension. He gave her a hard look, as if to size her up.

"Nope, she said with a sigh and a sad smile, "sometimes you get married." She had been talking about how he didn't get what he want, but the chance misinterpretation made it hard for her to look on him as she continued speaking. "Your eyes though, they really are quite beautiful, like an evergreen forest, striking. If you are the most handsome man in Westeros it's not because of your hair or skin or name, it's your eyes.

"So does all of this add up to you finding me pleasing," he asked.

"Because you were unaware of your charm?" she asked seriously.

Jaime stopped for a moment, they had walked out of the godswood completely and Allyria was not quite sure where she was. It took her a moment to realize what gate they were headed to, the bloody gate what creative names they have here in the capital. Jaime turned away from her, "you said sometimes you get married," he dug his boot into the dirt. "Did you mean me or you?" he asked sounding insecure.

"You, both of us, I don't know it's not like either of us really chose this. Say whatever you like about me and my family but I am nowhere titled enough and pretty enough for you to abandon your vows for me."

"Have not you heard?" he said so cruelly he almost spat at her. "They call me the kingslayer I abandoned those vows a long time ago."

She shook her head at him, his anger so misplaced. She took his arm dragging him back to her and making it uncomfortable so that he had to look at her. "I don't know why you did it, but it needed done, no matter what my father, or brother might have said."

"What gives you the right to make that judgment?" She laughed at him, "besides being able to read and ask questions, I know that men who burn men and make their children watch don't deserve to live. Also the very same right you used when you stabbed mad King Aerys."

Jaime laughed at her again, "I suppose it could be worse." "What could be worse," she asked. "You," Jaime said loudly. He began walking away, it was hard for Allyria to catch up with him, and her breathing was a little ragged as she jogged to stay beside him. "I was supposed to be married once before; you are a great improvement, though seeing as I can't join the kingsguard to get out of it I suppose I will have to go along with it."

"You could always join the nights watch," she said with a laugh, and Jaime laughed with her, a true and hearty laugh that made Allyria proud to be the cause of it. "So who is the lady I am to replace?"

"Lysa Tully," he pulled a face at her, "can you see me married to her? She would have found it a much less happy marriage then the one she is in now. Can you imagine me married to her?" Jaime's face still had that funny bewildered look to it.

She shrugged and looked confused at him with an awkward smile. "I don't actually know who that is. I suppose it was a silly question to ask." He laughed again, she liked it to much for her own good, she wouldn't fall for a men based on his laugh like a silly maiden.

"You are incredibly naïve, how far does that extended," She shook her head at his ridiculous question, how on earth is she supposed to answer the question what do you know about the things you know nothing about. They were still walking outside, it was early enough that the sun wasn't to hot and it felt nice on her skin. She felt comfortable with him, like they could one day be friends, and talk often like this.

"You are not as mad as I expected to find you," Allyria said.

"I am angry, but not at you, this was not your doing. Other people are not so blameless." Like your father, and your good brother the king, Allyria thought. She wanted to watch his face as he thought about these things, seeing how deep the anger and the hurt ran. As she wasn't paying attention she tripped over a rock in the path. "You have to look out for those better, there will be quite a few of them where you are going."

Allyria nodded, grateful that Jaime had caught her before she could fall and scuff up her hands. "I suppose grace isn't my best feature."

"No," he said honestly, "it too is your eyes." Allyria smiled, it was nice to know she was not totally lost on him.

"How long do you think we have," she asked sheepishly. They were almost to the entrance to the castle. She stopped walking, wanting this conversation to be as private as one could be in Kings Landing,

Jaime pantomimed deep thought and stroking his chin. "Well…" he paused dramatically. "They still have to get me out of my clothes, and then my father will come not much longer after that, a month I would say."

"You would say, or you do say," she said cheekily her wit not being lost on him.

"Why minx? Would you like it to be sooner?" he asked leaning in very close so she felt his breath on her face.

"Oh, Jaime," she stroked his cheek with a small smile. "Only because I want to get out of the capital as soon as possible." Then she lightly smacked his cheek and turned to leave without him. She heard Jaime chuckle as she entered the keep.


	4. Not quite chapter 5

**Author's note: I am setting this a year prior to the start of the series, which I think means Jaime has been in the kingsguard at least thirteen years. If this is incorrect I apologize, I am stickler for details too, so I understand. Also I know GRRM describes King's Landing but I don't remember it and I couldn't find specific details so I am making it up as I go.**

Thankfully there would be no real ceremony; it had taken all of Jaime's considerable strength just to show up. After it became apparent there was no way out of the marriage he had contemplated just running away; going to the free cities liked he had always talked to Cersei about, even if he would be alone. Oathbreaker is one thing, craven another, he wouldn't run away from a fifteen year-old girl.

"I could have arranged a very different marriage, to a less noble house or someone more loyal to the crown," Robert had said to Jaime. "She is a very pretty girl, I knew as soon as I saw her it had to be her. You will have to tell me kingslayer if you make it through the bedding without thinking of the Mad King,"

The High Septon said some nonsense, Tyrion being incapable of running Casterly Rock, he would be a better lord then Jaime ever would be, if only his father would see that. The large man was giving a sermon to three people, his ego being as large as his waistband, it was becoming a longer process then Jaime, or anyone else expected. "Ye Gods," Jaime mumbled, "getting the cloak didn't take half as long." Ser Barristan Selmy over heard and gave a laugh, quite unlike the man. Selmy was a serious man, who took everything seriously he did not much like Jaime. So every acknowledgement actually meant something to Jaime.

The Septon spoke some more, mostly in high valyrian, which no one else spoke. Robert had been sitting in a nearby pew nursing from a horn of ale with a self satisfied smirk. The drunker he got and the longer this process took the angrier Robert got too. Finally it was his moment and the king waddled over, his feet sticking slightly to the floor with every step from the ale he had spilt. With a mind fogged from drink it was hard to work the clasps of the cloak, in frustration Robert cursed and ripped it off. Just like that there were only six members of the kingsguard.

The marble floors of sept were not meant for kneeling and Jaime's knees creaked and popped as he stood, betraying the truth of his thirty years. He heard the king and the others shuffling about but did not stay to understand their actions. It felt like they had taken thirteen years from his life. It was true that those thirteen years had brought him nothing but bitterness and dishonor, but they had still meant something to Jaime, had come to define the man Jaime thought he was.

Even though there would be nothing left for him in White Sword Tower, servants had been removing his things over the past several days; Jaime could not stop his feet from taking him back there. Wrenching open the door and stomping though to the dim and empty solar where Jaime looked at the large black table in the center of the room. He began taking off his armor and carefully placing it on the table, showing it more respect then he ever had before. The white enamel of the armor shown in great contrast to the deep black glaze of the oak table. Somehow this bothered him, it was disrespectful and childish but Jaime couldn't abide the sight any longer, he became a slave, as it were, to his emotions when they became to strong. Destroying the still life image before him by violently sweeping his arm across the table, scattering the metal all over the room clanging as it went. Jaime felt angry tears bite at his eyes; if he was honest he would have admitted they were out of sadness too, but not even to himself would he admit that he would miss the guard. "Dammit," He mumbled as he quickly wiped his eyes then ran his hand through his hair to disguise the action. He took a deep breath before slowly picking up all the pieces and putting things back the way they were before his outburst.

Jaime heard some whispering at the entrance, wiping his eyes again quickly before turning to look, it was Ser Barristan Selmy; at least his opinion of Jaime would be little swayed by what he just saw. Whoever the old man had been talking too was gone now.

Like everything else in the tower the entryway and solar were small, within thirty paces Jaime and the Lord Commander were face to face, though Jaime had trouble meeting his eye.

"Life is rarely what we expect," Ser Barristan said, grabbing Jaime's shoulder. "This was not what you wanted; the King wasn't what you expected nor some of your sworn brothers what you wanted them to be." That wasn't entirely true, Jaime had been in complete awe of Arthur Dayne Gerold Hightower and Selmy himself, once, "You have a second chance, a new life ahead of you, do not waste it focusing on the could bes of your past." The elder man tightened his grip on Jaime's shoulder; Jaime winced but looked up at him for the first time. "Do not curse that girl to a life of unhappiness, to the same fate you once held, she is too kind and too pretty for that. Not to mention witty enough to keep up with you sharp tongued Lannisters," Barristan said with a smile. "She can make you happy, if you let her." Before either man knew it they were hugging, it was short but it was comforting, and likely to be all the comfort Jaime would receive. "It would be a lie to say that it has always been a pleasure, but it has always been interesting." Ser Barristan stuck out his hand and Jaime hesitantly shook it, and then the Lord Commander was gone. Jaime checked the urge to run.

Passing through the lawn between his old home and the main castle Jaime realized no one had actually told him where his chambers where. Jaime let his feet lead the way, knowing with almost certainty they would lead into the great hall and then to Cersei, wherever she might be. As he passed through the great hall he saw someone else, someone who was most definitely waiting for him. The throne room was almost empty, except for a little white head in a deep purple gown.

"Every passage leads here, that's what father said when he sent me, at least. Rather neat I suppose, though I am sure it was intended."

"Your father sent you?" Jaime asked, rather dully. Allyria nodded as she stood, straightening her dress which had creased slightly from her sitting on the ground.

"Yes he said that you did not know where you are to stay, thought you might be least angry with me." She said. "Since it's not like either of us have a choice in the matter."

"Lead on," he said with a short temper, he didn't need to hear how she wanted a different husband. With a sigh Allyria headed off away from where the main chamber hall lay. The castle is set up in four parts; the hall first the outer towers, white sword the hand and maegor's holdfast, the chamber floors where everyone from servants to squires to guests of the king stayed, then finally behind the throne room the small council room and maiden vault. Allyria most have been lost because it was in the direction of the latter that she headed, Jaime began to chase after her yelling for her to stop.

"I am not in the habit of chasing little girls," Jaime growled at her catching her elbow and holding on to it tightly.

"I am not in the habit of being ordered about like a dog. Let go of me," she said icily. Jaime didn't release her but loosened considerably. Allyria responded to this action by wrenching her arm free from him completely. Jaime was glad she was not afraid of him, even if he wasn't particularly happy at the moment.

"This can not be where I am to sleep, this leads to the maidenvault, where maidens prepare for their wedding." Jaime said in an almost condescending whisper.

"Exactly," Allyria had an eerie sort of smile on her face. "No one said this is for you, you did not want my company, why force it on you?"

"You sleep here? It's really only for those betrothed to the king or crown prince." Jaime said matter of factly but with a confused look.

"Yes," Allyria's smile had begun to take on a bit of an edge. "The king had my things moved here after my father consented my hand. I am not sure what is being played at but I would like to know." It reassured Jaime that she was smart enough to recognize that not all was as it should be.

"Well," Jaime said drawing the word out, "My lady allow me to shed some light on the situation as you show me the way." He offered her his arm and she took it but said, "Don't call me that, I am nobody's lady." Jaime's face grew into a smirk and he could not help his reply, "You'll be my lady soon enough."

"I will be your wife, and a great many other things I am sure, but not a lady. I do not have the patience to cultivate great courtesies, that lack has kept me from appreciating it in others as well." Jaime laughed at that, how perfect she was Robert knew not, that she suited Jaime just fine but would irritate his father to no end was just an added bonus to the oblivious king. Jaime told the girl as much, it was meant to be a compliment but she took it as a slight, stiffening a bit in response.

"The truth is you were given as a punishment, to me and to my father," Jaime said, not realizing the damaging effect his words would have. "The king could have picked anyone to repay his debt to my father but he picked you." Jaime stopped and turned the girl to face him, starring straight at her. "Any unmarried woman from a noble house; fat old ugly young, whatever suited the king's taste, yet he chose you. A girl from a house that had openly supported the Targaryens, a wealthy and honorable house and also the heir, meaning our children would one day inherit the rock and Starfall. Not a very smart thing for a man to give a person he dislikes, and the king hates the very sight of me. Of course the feeling is mutual," Jaime added absentmindedly. "So why you?" he asked again in all seriousness.

There was a stillness in the air before Allyria answered, "Arthur. He knighted you, and welcomed you into the kingsguard, but while he died defending the Targaryens you killed one of them, the very one you were sworn to protect above all else." Jaime was stunned by her answer. Jaime felt the truth of it and slumped under the weight of all his memories, he had tried to be the sword of the morning, but somewhere along the way became the smiling knight, he thought to himself. He never regretted killing Aerys, but it saddened him to think how much he disappointed the men he once idolized. "I never met him," Allyria said dragging Jaime from his thoughts. "Well I did, but I don't remember him." Jaime nodded, he remembered how old she was, or rather how young, he too had been at her name day tourney. He was surprised when Sumner Crakehall had decided to go all the way to Dorne, but a tourney for a girl was a rare occasion and the crown prince was to be there too. "Your past does not bother me though; the king did not succeed in that respect." It was a nice sentiment, but Jaime's misdeeds ran deeper then broken vows and king slaying, not that he had ever regretted them either.

They continued up the stairs, it was obvious to Jaime now that he would be on the top floor. The small windows cut into the tower guided the way, in the winter they were boarded up and the halls were lit by torches drenched in wildfire.

"You are smart, smarter then the king, for he did not consider that unfortunate connection between us." Jaime said looking at the staisr still ahead of them, though they were almost to the top. "You are the closest link to old Valyria; it's why your eyes are purple and skin so white after so long in Dorne." The revelation dawned on her, that she was to be a constant reminder of his past, the Mad King.

They reached the final step, and then Allyria led him off to the left. Four doors down and she pushed one open, revealing a large but sparsely furnished chamber. The bed was large; it was so dominating it seemed to take up most of the room. It looked overly soft to Jaime and he wondered how he would sink into if he were to jump on it, as he had done in his youth. At first he checked the impulse to run and jump before he realized Allyria would probably approve of his impropriety. It was quite soft and he sank deep into it, Jaime was very satisfied. How odd he thought to himself, alone in his room in his bed, with his intended. "Care to join me? he asked, "it is quite fun."

Allyria laughed at him and smiled shaking her head, "I am sure it is. I am afraid I have to pass." With that she left quickly, leaving Jaime to say thanks to a wooden door.


	5. Actually Chapter 5

For the last week Allyria and Lord Alban had been asked to dine with the royal family, it had not been a wholly unpleasant experience. Tommen and Myrcella were delightful and very attentive, keeping Allyria occupied from the evenings less pleasant moments. Namely those involving Cersei or Joffery, though Joffery only spoke if it was to mock one of his siblings. Cersei was civil, but it was a cold and unwilling civility.

Last night after numerous attempts the king was finally able to drag Lord Alban into a conversation, leaving Allyria to fend for herself. "You dress very simply for a lord's daughter, does your family have money or was that just a ruse?" the queen asked her. Allyria had packed most of her belongings, though leaving behind some of the more worn of her clothes. In comparison to the queen, or the princess, she was dressed very simply indeed. However the silver three quarter length sleeve dress with black lace was the nicest dress she owned.

"I suppose simple dresses are much more in fashion in Dorne, Your Grace," Allyria answered ignoring the question of money. It would never amount to anything the Lannister's had, and probably did not matter much to Cersei anyways.

"It is not just your manner of dressing though is it, your hair is rather simple too, as if you had just woken before coming to dinner. I imagine that it would be a terrible nuisance to wear your hair loose, with all the wind."Cersei looked less interested Allyria and more offended by her presence. Allyria had braided two half strands on either side of her head all the way until they had met together on the back of her head, then she combined those and braided it all the way to the end. Simpler perhaps then the intricate design created by the queen's maids, her hair in rope braids styled a top her head, but Allyria in no way looked as if she had just awoken. Cersei peered at Allyria over the top of her cup, a thin cruel smile on her face. "Cat got your tongue?" she asked, "Best get used to that."

Allyria wanted to assert that she was more then appropriate dressed for anyone in Dorne, and that yes, this is how they wear there hair too, but recognized it would do more harm then good. "My maid has a family back in Starfall; it would have been cruel to drag her with me. With everything else I did not have time to find a replacement. Without a maid this is the best I can manage I am afraid." That was not quite true but Allyria knew the queen couldn't know it was a falsehood and probably would not care anyways.

Cersei nodded at her; at least they could agree that finding a maid was troublesome. "Certainly, you have had plenty of time since your arrival to find one, that will not do on your wedding day." Cersei said motioning to her hair. "Or do you enjoy shaming my brother?" The question shocked Allyria and she stumbled slightly on her response, "Did he, did Ser Jaime say that?" Cersei laughed, it was as cruel and dishonest as her smile, "No, Jaime is to much a fool to ever notice things like that. Does not mean others do not notice for him; make no mistake it shames him and our families."

There were so many things Allyria wanted to say, none of them good nor helpful. "Thank you for telling me, I had not known such things. I will try to dress and act in a manner that adequately shows my respect and feelings for my betrothed." She managed to say and not choke on the false words.

"A silly maid like you would say that, fall for a handsome knight before you even knew him, because he is handsome."

Allyria had had enough of the queen's condescension, "you can not help who you love." She had ended the conversation with that remark, but even now as she sat stitching her maiden cloak she kept replaying that strange interaction over and over in her head. Why would the queen dislike her so she wondered?

**Author's note: I added this chapter, it wasn't originally a part of the plan but I cut out Cersei and Allyria interaction earlier in the story and felt that Cersei still needed to be a part of the story, this is me adding her back in. I think it is much better then my first attempt.**


	6. Chapter 6

Jaime had not gone outside of his chambers much, except to the yard for practice and to be with his sister. With Cersei he never had to worry about what he said or thought, he was completely honest with his sister, and she with him. Jaime knew she was angry about his marriage, angry that it would leave her alone in the capital with no one but Robert, angry that someone else would have a claim to him. She was very vocal about it, calling Allyria all kinds of things. It was harmless and Jaime didn't stop her. Jaime knew he was going to miss his sister greatly, so even though he disliked it he listened to her hateful words.

This morning when he was with her holding her in his arms she told him about dinner the night before. Jaime knew she must have been in her cups; she was never so careless in public about their connection. Jaime had never got to hold his own children because it would seem like he was taking to much interest. Jaime just shook his head as she told the tale of her victory over his soon to be wife. How could she have been so cruel, in times like these Jaime remembered the other side of his sister, the side he so easily forgave because he loved her and thought she loved him. When she had hurt Tyrion when he was just a babe, how she had gotten so many servants dismissed over the years, that she wasn't at all disturbed by the deaths of so many at the hand of her father.

Jaime stood up quickly, throwing Cersei from his lap, "why would you say such things, what has she done to you? You did nothing to stop this, and yet you at like it is such a great tragedy." He had been sick watching Robert and Cersei's wedding, having to share her with someone else, Jaime was not sure Cersei was feeling the same thing. It was jealously true enough but did it come from love, as his did.

"You act like you care about this girl, but you don't and she will never be family Jaime," his sister yelled after him as he left slamming the door loudly. That's not true, he thought, the thing is I do care I may never love her but I care. Right now he wanted to apologize for his sister.

Tyrion had come in last night he had come to see Jaime, and Jaime was glad of it, though he had got her so fast Jaime knew not. He knew Tyrion had every intention of seeing Allyria today, had said as much last night. "The girl to tame the beast," he had said and had asked after Cersei too. Jaime wondered if he would see his little brother when he visited Allyria.

Jaime knocked on the door to the maiden vault, it was quite large, with many rooms connected by a large antechamber but he would not be so impolite as to barge in. Perhaps he had knocked to lightly for there was no answer; Jaime knew Allyria was in there. Though he had not seen her since they released him from his vows he knew she had kept to her rooms except for meals. He opened the door, "Allyria," he called loudly so he knew she would hear.

"Brother," Tyrion turned from a tall winged back chair Jaime was always pleased to be in his company. "We did not hear you; your bride is very entertaining." Jaime was pleased his brother liked her; his opinion was the most important.

"Oh," Jaime pulled up a chair and sat next to his brother who wore a big smile. "What has she been telling you?" he asked. Allyria was sitting across from them sewing into a large purple piece of fabric. As she pushed and pulled the needle through the silk she occasionally picked up a pearl or a sapphire, putting her house sigil into the cloak.

"That she will always keep you busy, tripping over things hurting herself, getting into things she should not be." Jaime cocked in eyebrow at her; Allyria blushed slightly but shook her head.

"Your brother exaggerates; I have had a few moments to be sure but nothing so mischievous as he makes it sound. It is only so bad because of my poor parents; they treated me like glass you see." Allyria talked and looked at Jaime but she kept sewing never messing up a stitch. She was in a dark pink dress today, it made her seem flushed. It was a fine dress with red myrish lace and ivory ribbons. She had one of the ribbons in her hair as well, which had been braided from one side and up over the crown of her head then down the other side towards the back of her skull where it ended in a tight chignon. Jaime had never seen her so formal, he had preferred her the way she usually looked; he knew this was his sisters doing.

"Has Jaime told you about all the things he got up to as a boy," Tyrion asked Allyria. She shook her head answering, "No, Ser Jaime has not." Tyrion looked at Jaime with a glint in his eye, "Ser Jaime," he said with a smile, "how formal of you." Allyria blushed again, Jaime wondered if it was her brother bringing out her courtesies, or again if this was Cersei's doing.

"What things have I done?" Jaime asked, knowing which stories his brother would not tell, the stories that haunted both but for different reasons. "If you mean the cliff that is hardly worth talking about," Tyrion did tell that story though. Allyria laughed when she was supposed to look shocked when she was supposed to, Tyrion is a very engrossing story teller. Jaime finished the story, "there was never anything to fear, not until father knew, 'Lannister's, Lannister's don't act like fools'" Jaime said, lowering his voice and taking on a rougher cadence. Allyria was completely engrossed in their story, laughing and smiling, she looked truly happy to Jaime.

"You are not doing well to calm my nerves," she said teasingly. "How will I ever make it through meeting your father if you say such horrible things about him?"

"I am afraid you should have reason to fear, you have met our sister," Tyrion said. "Oh sister, for you will soon be my sister, she likes to think herself as an heir to our father's cunningness, but she falls far short." Jaime just nodded, Tywin had not been the best father, perhaps he had been before his wife died but no one remembered that, Jaime was sure he would be about as bad as a good father.

"This family is always warning me I feel, like you are trying to make me cower in fear of my new husband." She said with a smile, but she meant it, for Jaime knew he had warned her and scared her as much as either of his siblings. "I must say it will not be so easy to call you brother, I thought it was us that were to be married not so long ago."

It was a rare feat to shock Tyrion, but he was, "why would you think that?" he asked. Jaime was not surprised by the girl and her father's logic, in their shoes he would have thought the same thing, but Jaime knew too well that logic was not something you applied to Lord Tywin Lannister

"The king's letter simply said heir, we did not know he had meant someone other then you. My father and I supposed you were the heir, since Jaime was in the guard." Her voice trailed off a little, not wishing to upset Jaime.

"Well you must be relieved." Tyrion replied with a laugh, trying to disguise the pain he felt at his father's refusal to recognize him as a worthy member of the family. "Not quite as smart as me I am afraid, but far handsomer."

"Actually," Allyria began, "I was indifferent, and married to a stranger is still married to a stranger. At that moment I knew very little about you, and when the time came very little about Ser Jaime."

"But they don't call him the Imp," Tyrion said with another suggestive waggle of his eyebrows. "No," Jaime interjected, "Kingslayer seems to do quite well enough.' There was an awkward pause for a bit, Allyria did not know what to say, she thought about discussing her sister and her nickname, the fallen star. Instead she just said, "We are broken, chipped in ways that can never be fixed, it makes us unique it makes us strong. I like it better that way." Tyrion nodded, "to true sister, to true."

They talked for a little while longer about unimportant and trivial matters. Both stayed and ate with her laughing through the whole meal. When they left Jaime kissed Allyria, Tyrion waddled up after him and kissed her goodbye too, though on the cheek. As they left Tyrion said, loud enough for her to hear, "I like that girl."

**Author's note (again!) So this wasn't in the story either, I like Tyrion but he is so hard to write because I am not nearly witty or smart enough! I hope I did a passable job, I know it's nowhere near the real character. Next chapter is the wedding; I am taking my time I know, sorry about that. **


	7. Chapter 4

Allyria's new maid Meiri came in early to wake her. She was a kind young woman; she was definitely southern though not dornish. Her hair was blonde but a dusty darker color and her eyes were a light brown. She smiled a lot and she put Allyria at ease, though Allyria was still a little wary. The girl simply showed up one day and Allyria did not know who hired her. Sometimes she deluded herself into thinking her father or Jaime had done it, but neither of them would ever have thought about it let alone be considerate enough to follow through. Tyrion could have, but in her heart of hearts she knew that the queen was behind it. She had a nagging fear that she should be afraid of her highness.

Quickly and efficiently Meiri got her up, fed, bathed, and dressed, today would be the wedding. Today would be long. In truth Allyria had hardly eaten, though the table had been set with delicious fruits and sweetmeats. She felt slightly nauseous. She kept repeating in her head the mantra "I am not afraid I am not afraid." But she was, and when she would come to that conclusion she would try to counteract it with "it could be much worse, he is pleasant company and humorous and handsome." She did allow herself the belief that it would be far from the happiest memory. In the end she ate a few pieces of fruit. The maid tutted as she cleared the table.

Dressing without a maid today would have been impossible. With the two of them it still took well over an hour before all the pieces of the dress were fully assembled. The dressmaker had brought it in last night and as she showed it to the bride she remarked "a dress fit for the Lion of Lannister." Before they began Allyria stood in a light cotton robe and lace small clothes, for the wedding night, and admired the dress, a work of art to her. It was still in purple and silver, not Lannister red and gold, but it was the finest dress Allyria had ever beheld. It was light lavender silk with silver and dark purple brocade and had a lengthy train, Allyria worried she would trip on it. There was a belt of creamy freshwater pearls over purple lace, the same pattern she wore under the dress which also trimmed the veil, the pearls cascaded down the skirt in waves and ended in little silver shooting stars, a part of her house sigil. There were also pearls on the very bottom of the dress the neckline and dripping off the ends of the cap sleeves. The neckline was also a little lower then she was used to, but not so low as to be exposed in some indecent manner. Silver stars were also on the tight and corseted bodice, in the middle of each lay a small diamond. After it was finally on Allyria could not help running her hand down the sides of her body. Feeling the silkiness of it admiring the dress and the way it looked on.

After Meiri had set to work with her face and hair, which Allyria found slightly vexing. Beeswax was applied to her eyelashes and eyebrows then a comb ran through them. Some form of berry paste applied to her lips and cheeks, a darker one for her lips that tasted of cherries. She was admonished for licking her lips though; she felt shame at being corrected like some small child. The hair was combed back and three little braids had been done then woven together on the right side. A low bun formed by the left ear which gave of the impression her hair was curly. A few pieces fell out and framed her face. Allyria couldn't believe how different she looked, and was yet still beautiful.

There was a short sharp knock on the chamber door. The door opened a peak, "are you decent?" her father called in. "Yes papa, come in," she answered. Lord Alban looked very smart in dark brown twill trousers and a dark purple doublet; he walked with his ivory cane which he now leaned heavily on. "You look very beautiful," he said slightly above a whisper, and his voice broke a little too. Allyria did not study too long her father for she was afraid of crying, but if she had she would have noticed tears lined his old eyes.

She handed him the veil, which was long white tulle with purple lace. Before covering her face he gave her a short moist kiss on the mouth. Then father and daughter began the long journey to the sept.

The sept was much darker inside then it was outside, the difference made for a difficult adjustment. Far ahead she could still see the great fat High Septon with his crystal and Jaime. When she became accustomed she saw immediately the vast sea of red and gold, the sept was dripping in rich velvets and heavy woven tapestries of her new house colors, lions could be seen everywhere too. No expense had been spared for the heir of Casterly Rock and the queen's brother, Tywin had seen to that.

Allyria had met the Lannister Patriarch a few nights previously; he was every bit as scary as his reputation. He had been blunt but she had also found him surprisingly kinder then expected, though not to any of his children. It was sad, but his treatment of Tyrion did not surprise her, though she cared for the dwarf greatly. His mocking scorn for Jaime and his daughter, the queen after all, had though. For a moment she had pitied Cersei. The remark about expecting grandchildren quickly caught her off guard and his hopes for them too. It seemed daughters were not to be desired, and woe to her if the first wasn't a son.

As they entered everyone turned to look, except the queen, they all had smiles. Allyria found them infectious and began to smile too, and to hope and dream of a happy marriage.

The ceremony was short, though she was grateful. Her father removed her lavender silk maiden's cloak stiffly and then Jaime had wrapped her in his heavy crimson one. She was no longer a maid, and soon she would no longer be a maiden. When the Septon had declared them married Jaime had given her a warm but chaste kiss, moving swiftly down the aisle.

Honestly if she could have gone straight from wedding to bedding she would have done it. The feast and its tedious courses and dancing almost bored Allyria to tears. It would be a long feast, for again Tywin would show his might, though Jaime had advocated for a smaller one, a gesture that did not go unnoticed by her. It gave pause though too, what did it mean that they both desired a wedding that was over as quickly as possible and done with little fan fare?

The servants had just finished setting all the tables, again a sea of red and gold, when the couple arrived. Jaime led them to the head table sitting in the center right chair without pulling hers out. Beckoning to a servant he called for wine, which he drank quickly and received more. He also called for her wine goblet to be filled. The servant a young man with brown hair and a thin mustache had poured a dark fruity red into her cup. "I don't normally drink My Lord."

"Jaime will do, and you will tonight," he replied gruffly. With a sigh he added a bit more kindly, "you may wish to be very deep into your cups by nights end. It will make things easier." After that others filed in and the food soon followed, first always to the King and Queen and then to Jaime and then Allyria and lastly the congregation.

They ate for a while then she danced the first number with Jaime. After he returned to the table while she had been asked by the kings youngest brother, and by far most handsome, Renly. She danced quite a few numbers, including one with Kevan Lannister whom she infinitely preferred to his elder brother. She took a rest after him, he paid compliment to his nephew on his new wife, and she blushed at his niceties though Jaime scarcely nodded. Ate a bit more and then danced a bit more and then ate again, it was now quite late. Jaime had danced quite a bit too; he had danced once with his twin. Afterwards he looked as though he was suffering from some kind of ache, he had not been very pleasant company all evening, she feared of asking her favor, but she had too. In all the time she had known him he had never been so quiet. She grabbed his hand lightly, glad he didn't pull away. "I have a favor to ask, perhaps I have not earned it, but if you care at all for me my father or my family please find away to get him out before the bedding. I do not ask for me, I am not embarrassed, but."

He cut her off, "the bedding is a vulgar thing if we did not have to we would not, your father should not suffer consider it done." That was the most he had said all evening, at least to her. She also considered it the kindest thing he had ever said so far.

Petyr Baelish approached the table; she was not fond of the man, though she barely knew him. "May I have a dance," he asked Jaime though looking directly at her.

"I do not dance with men, Baelish. If it is a dance with my wife you want then ask her yourself." With a smile Allyria consented, though she was seething at the arrogance of the man whose hand she held. At the same time her heart lept with joy for her husbands actions.

She made a half hearted attempt to listen to what her partner was saying, praying she nodded at the right times. "A most fortunate match for you my dear," Allyria heard this and gave proper response. Across the room she noticed Jaime and Tyrion deep in conversation. "Then again not much respect for honor in that family or duty by the kingslayer, what would your brother say to that?" Allyria felt slapped, bringing up Arthur like that and calling Jaime by his taunting name. She could come up with no response and only just kept herself from calling him every horrible name she could think of. Though again in her heart of hearts she knew her brother would not approve of the match. If Arthur was still alive it would be unlikely Jaime would be.

She was spared from a further dancing, while she had been distracted by Baelish's cutting remark she had failed to notice Jaime coming towards them. "My wife if you please," he had said with no other pleasantries or explanation. Jaime turned them so they would be closer to where her family was dining. "If you look you will see Tyrion escorting your father." As they made a sweeping turn she craned her neck to see over Jaime's shoulder, seeing the old man and the dwarf leave the great hall through a side door.

Leaning in closer and feeling his warmth she rested her forehead on his shoulders and gave whispered thanks. "The time will soon be upon us." They finished the dance, walking towards the table again hand in hand, Allyria wore a smile. Almost as soon as they were seated they were pulled out again, King Robert announced the bedding ceremony was to begin. Allyria blessed Jaime and Tyrion's timing. There was a roar from the crowd as men rushed to her and women to Jaime. Soon they were tearing the clothes off her, damaging the lovely dress. She hated the feeling of all these men's hands on her. One had swatted her backside and another lingered over her breasts, "the lion will feast tonight won't he boys." She clenched her teeth, unwilling to show them how disgusted she was. Soon she was in nothing but the lace small clothes, whistles and catcalls came from all over. They wrapped her finally in Jaime's cloak, she was grateful for the coverage. Now they were carrying her to the room, she knew Jaime would be there and though some might lurk outside the door she was glad only Jaime would be inside of it. They tossed her inside and bolted the door, though she did not see Jaime. She wondered briefly if he had left. "I want a bath," she said loudly and angrily with a shudder trying to erase the memory of so many lingering hands. She took off the cloak, still puzzled by Jaime's absence. She took the moment to peer around her new room, it was certainly bigger. The bed was a very prominent feature. There was a desk and table, a few book were strewn here and there evidence of Tyrion's patronage. A full decanter of red wine was on the table and with Jaime's earlier command in mind she moved to pour herself another cup. She had not noticed the door to her left but the sound of movement drew her attention to it now. She thought perhaps it led to the baths. She was about to look, and perhaps run one when the door open and there stood Jaime. He wore only small breeches; hair covered lightly his chest and arms that glowed slightly in the candle light.

"Care to join me?" he asked, the characteristic smirk back on his face. A grin so many thought bespoke an underlying malevolence. She was beginning to wonder if Jaime was cruel and mean or if circumstance had made him so. He ducked back behind the door after she nodded.

The air inside the bath house was very warm and humid; Allyria liked her baths hot and it seemed so too did her husband. The heavy steam made her skin and hair slightly damp. Jaime had begun to remove his last pieces of clothing, and Allyria reached back to undo the laces on her small corset managing only the bottom two. "Allow me," Jaime reached behind her and expertly undid the bindings. It was hard not to cling to the fabric, to shrink from his gaze. He kissed the shell of her ear, leaning into her as he pushed away the fabric from her body. She felt his chest against her back as it rose and fell with his deep calm breaths. She did shiver a bit when he hooked a finger in the waistband of her small clothes. He laughed at her innocence but was not unkind. With a deft flick those to were removed, crumpled by her ankles. It was now or never; with a deep breath she decided to be brave, reminding herself it could be so much worse. She even decided to enjoy it. She turned around and let him see her fully, knowing that was what he wanted. Somehow the action gave her confidence, he looked happy, pleased with her, It gave her the courage to kiss him fully on the mouth, in what she hoped was good and passionate kiss. She didn't linger though and marched straight into the large sunken bronze tub.

The water was very hot and it almost burnt her. She adapted quickly to it, lowering her whole body in and leaning her head back to wet her hair. With a laugh she realized it was big enough to swim in, and so she did so. Resurfacing she heard a splash, Jaime had entered the bath. He had soap and a wash cloth, he began bathing her. Afterwards he invited her to do the same, her face went scarlet with embarrassment and shame Jaime laughed again.

After they had emptied the tub they dried off on a little couch in front of a fire place that was unlit wrapped in white fluffy towels. Occasionally Jaime would kiss her or touch her in some way that made her stomach twist, but twist in a good way. Eventually the time came and he carried her to bed, throwing her on it just like she had said he could.

They had bathed together lay together and eventually slept together side by side. Allyria had fallen asleep smiling surrounded in the after glow of the act she had participated in. For the moment married life had been good to her. When Jaime awoke the next morning he could not help but agree. When he had decided he could find no way out of it and gave himself over to it he had in fact enjoyed himself. Only when he realized that in the morning did he feel guilty.

**Okay So I realize Jaime probably wouldn't give two fly figs about the bedding ceremony but I hate it and think it sounds horrifying so I wrote it that way. If that really bugs you I am sorry. Also I am going back and editting (slowly) some past chapters because I suck at grammar.**


	8. Chapter 7

**Trying my hand at omniscient narration, it will probably just be this chapter. And if you all tell me I suck at it then I won't ever do it again, let me know. **

Crack! She landed the final time with a heavy thud, one moment she had been walking the hall the next she was falling down stairs. At the bottom Allyria was moaning in pain, her eyesight was blurry and it was hard to move but her arm and head were in agony. She had literally landed on her face, it was not pleasant.

"Milady, milady are you… Oh Gods." A maid said to her. Allyria remembered her a little she was a kitchen maid.

Allyria tried to call out, to say, "Is the baby okay, what about the baby." If she had hit her stomach she could have damaged the babe inside, she hoped everything was okay. Either the maid didn't hear or didn't understand as she began to yell for help.

Katya was very worried, she liked the lady she remembered their names and were kind. She hadn't meant to push Allyria down the stairs; she had been cleaning up from supper and hadn't been looking where she was going. She had forgotten that the lady had taken to walking late at night to ease the pain of her late stage pregnancy. If something happened to the lady or her babe Katya would never forgive herself, that on top of the guilt of losing her job, there were no seconds chances at Casterly Rock.

The first to respond was Ser Addam Marband, they were closer here to the yard were he must have come from as the keeps master of arms. "Seven hells, you fetch the maester now, and then you keep going and find Jaime." He called to the girls rapidly retreating figure. Allyria did not look well to him. She had blood trickling from a gash in her forehead down the side of her face. The left arm was very clearly broken and possible a finger on that hand too. "My lady, can you hear me? Can you understand me?" He asked.

Allyria mumbled incoherently, but seeing his still worried face she nodded. Now she was more scared that she wasn't making any sense and couldn't be understood.

Ser Addam didn't know what would be worse, leaving her like this until the master came or moving her. He wanted a better look at her, to see the extent of her injuries. The maester would want to do the same thing, and so he decided to wait. He knew he should talk to her, it would be calming, but calming women wasn't something he normally did. As he began to say things he noticed she was listening and if it was calming to her he didn't know but he felt better.

A few minutes and the noise of hurried footsteps filled the hall. Ser Addam could see Jaime coming. "I think she fell down the stairs. We shouldn't move her."

Jaime stopped beside her and saw her twisted body and felt a bit sick. He had seen much worse. On the battlefield he had seen almost anything imaginable, none of it had been so personal. Kneeling down he got a better look at her, she tried to shift so to face him as she did so her face winced and she gave yelp of pain. "Stay." He nodded to her that he was to be obeyed; she didn't look in the mood to argue. "She hasn't been moved at all?" Ser Addam knew why he asked, it would not be good for their child, but he told the truth and shook his head. Jaime knew the child was dead, it wouldn't survive. He noticed Allyria's eyes were glassy, from loss of blood though she didn't seem to have lost that much. If she was bleeding internally there would be nothing they could do for her either. He found he wasn't to upset about the child, but he really didn't want her to die. Not like this, not like his mother.

The maester was nearing; the stumbling footsteps of a man with limp were right beside them now. The old man squatted between Jaime and Addam though Addam moved away at once to make more room. His face was hard with a nose like carved from stone; the old man had little hair left too with a great bald patch in the center. He had a full beard that went past his chest however and in more serene moments he was fond of stroking it. He directed Jaime to place pressure on the head wound then told Addam to find the nearest empty room. "You understand what we have to do?" he whispered to Jaime, "she won't live if we don't, she might not anyways." He had never believed in sugar coating bad news.

"Two doors down on the left is a clean room with linens," Marband returned. "How is she to be moved?" They were all thinking it; he was the only one to say it.

"You will be very careful of her arm and her neck. Ser Addam you should carry her lower half and you'll have to support more of the weight. Jaime she may not be conscious or aware enough to support her own head and neck. If not you must do it for her, it would be bad not to it would encourage more damage to her neck." The maester moved to take the cloth partially stained red with blood from Jaime and spoke to the lady. "You must be moved and I must examine you, try not to move too much. If you can keep your head level with the rest of your body do so."

Ser Addam was carrying her around the lower part of her waist, her legs on either side of him. Now was not the time to worry about appearances or custom besides if she lived Allyria wouldn't care. Jamie hooked his arms under her shoulders, an easy position to shift if she couldn't hold her head up. She managed though, just barely and they began to shuffle on down the hallway.

When they got to the door the maester opened it fully and held it so from the inside. "On the bed put her head on the pillows she should be propped up. He had made a small mass of pillows at the head of the bed. "You should leave." The maester said, knowing it would likely be a long and difficult night head. Ser Addam moved without further word but Jaime stayed. "My Lord it will be long and there will be nothing you can do for her now, go back to bed." Despite his advice Jaime moved closer to his wife.

"You said she might die," he was trying to be quiet not wanting to scare her more. "I won't let her die alone, I will stay I have seen worse." The maester wasn't sure about that, bloody battlefields are one thing a bloody child bed with your dead wife quite another but he protested no further.

Perhaps Jaime could be of some help the maester handed him a goblet of some foul looking and smelling liquid. "Spiced wine, and other things," he gestured towards the cup. "She has to be awake but it will help with the pain and there are things in it to help her body transition to what must be done now." Once she drank the concoction all there was left to do was wait, wait until her body began to push and she could do nothing to stop it. Soon her lips pulled back and she was grunting and groaning in pain again, the time had come. He hoped she would not try to fight it, some did and it made everything so much worse. He looked between her legs and saw the blood he knew would be there, he felt for all the women who had birthed dead babies, it was unnatural. "Push, now," the old man said softly but leaving no doubt to the command of it. He was grateful when she did as he asked.

It took several hours, and he was sorry for it, she was exhausted. There had not been as much blood as expected; if the arm was a clean break and the head wound not deep she would be fine in a few days. He covered the blue fetus in a cloth, not showing it to the father and made for the door leaving husband and wife alone for a moment.

The second he stepped in the hallway he was confronted by Lord Tywin, whom was furious at being the last to know. "What is that and where is my son?" he demanded of the maester. "

Your son is in with the lady, I don't know what happened my Lord but she is in a bad way, though I think she will be okay. The babe is not, it didn't not survive I am sorry my Lord." He knew how much Tywin had wanted another grandson, but not like this.

The great lord paused, he almost looked sad for a minute, he did not look it more then that for he would never show a sign of weakness if he could help it. He had such hopes for his grandson, he would honor the Lannister name in ways his children had failed to do. "Let me see it." The maester had no choice but to obey though he thought it a bad idea. It was a son, blue and broken but Tywin had been so close to securing his line again. He cursed the gods for taking this too from him. "Get rid of it," he said gruffly.

The maester handed the child off to a servant boy, were the body would go from there he knew not. He gave directions for a different servant to bring the cloth bandages and chalk for his chamber and a bowl of warm water and then he followed Tywin back into the room.

"Father?" Tywin was the very last person Jaime wished to see at the moment. "She fell down the stairs nearest our chamber." He said brushing some blonde hair from her face. Allyria was sleeping now, Jaime wanted to wake her, make sure she was okay but the maester had said it was better to rest.

"No she did not, that silly maid pushed her, an accident she claims but she has been dismissed." Tywin said with his normal cold face, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Yet he was dealing with things he had buried long ago, how she looked like Joanna, he missed her. He wouldn't chastise his son for staying at his wife's side, if he had known his own wife was going to die nothing would have pried him for her side. "When the maester is finished with her and she is to rest you will come to my chambers, we have things to discuss." He left with no other remark or sign of emotion whatsoever.

A few days passed and Allyria did not wake, the maester didn't expect her to, he had given her milk of the poppy. "Sleep aids healing and speeds it up," he had said. Jaime took to sleeping in the armchair in her room and even Tyrion read for long periods of time at her bedside so that someone might be there if she did wake.

Early on the third morning she did open her eyes. "Jaime," she said hoarsely her throat ached with dryness. The noise roused him directly, "Allyria, Allyria" he repeated with a half smile of hope. "What happened?" she asked and Jaime couldn't help hugging her he was happy she was okay. He explained everything about her broken hand which was in a soft cast and in sling on her chest. Then he explained quietly and softly about their son. "Where is his body?" she asked, Jaime knew not he hadn't even seen the body he only knew it was a boy because someone had told him. "Did you and your unfeeling father throw away your son like trash?" She asked very angry with him now, he couldn't help feeling a bit ashamed, he hadn't really thought about the boy as his. He had other children but they weren't really his, he had felt the same now. "How dare you!" she slapped him but it didn't really hurt it took to much effort just to lift the arm putting pressure behind it was beyond her capabilities. "Leave me; I can't abide to look at you." Jaime tried to say sorry, give a reason that he was to concerned with her but no words came out. "Get. Out." She said again not even looking at him.


	9. Chapter 8

Authors Note: If you haven't read A Feast for Crows there is a teeny tiny baby spoiler at the end. I don't tell you who killed him but I tell you who didn't….

When they left Kings Landing, Jaime decided they would go home whatever way he wanted, he was no longer beholden to anyone and he wanted to see a few things again. Travelling for entertainment wasn't really a thing, so he had to take one of the few people who had done it along, Tyrion happily accepted and Allyria seemed pleased with the idea as well. They traveled out of the capital on the Roseroad heading into the Reach. They spent a night in Highgarden before turning northward to the Searoad along the western coast. They spent the last night in Lannisport before finally reaching the Rock over a fortnight later.

The weeks spent with his pleasant wife and most beloved brother were the only thing that could have prepared Jaime to meet again with his father. Tywin did not take to well to the news that he had arrived before his son; in his calm and cold voice he let his opinions be known with brutal clarity. Allyria had tried to save Jaime the humiliation, but it had only made it worse when she tried to take responsibility for their tardiness. "I'll not have my heir commanded by some woman." To her credit she didn't shrink away or cry.

That day was harsh and Jaime spent it far from everyone, in his old room, remembering times with Cersei and the way his mother smiled. In bed that night Jaime did not even say goodnight. Two people might have slept in it, but that night their marriage bed was cold. The next day he shook off the weight of their failed arrival at Casterly Rock and his memories both pleasant and otherwise, determined to make a better start.

Allyria began to take upon her all the duties of a wife, and when allowed, lady of the castle. She directed the unpacking of their chambers and his solar, she ordered the meals and when staff would come and go to clean. During the day Jaime would meet with his father, after breaking his fast in his own solar alone with Allyria. They lived in the southern tower; it had been his favorite as a child. It was the second tallest, the Lord's Chamber was the tallest and was more centrally located with great bay windows looking out over the Sunset Sea. There were many great windows and views in the tower the newlyweds shared but they looked out over Lannisport. Jaime preferred that, it was like he was looking after Tyrion, something he always tried to do, though he sometimes did more harm then good. Afterwards he was free to do as he pleased. Often he would spar in the yard with some of the men, most often Ser Addam Marband. He also went into the smiths; Jaime always liked the way it smelt of hot metal.

It had been long since Jaime had been home, and so most of the first few weeks he spent rediscovering the place of his childhood. He also took to dragging Allyria along, who took to this adventure as she seemed to take to all things, well.

Jaime did like his wife, she was pretty, and he liked that; mostly he found her entertaining, smart and kind she never seemed to lose patience with him or anyone. He didn't love her, not like Cersei who he missed deeply. Jaime was honest with himself though, it could have been worse. Allyria was soft too, and she came to him at night with desire in her heart. He saw it in her eyes and felt it in her touches, but he felt no love, and was glad for it. He thought, if they could last like this, as friends being kind to one another, be a family but having no intimate love then the marriage would be happy.

For a while he was right, they existed happily without the love he thought so poorly of. However, never being very observant he did not notice her changes towards him, nor his subtle and unthinking responses to her either. One night after they had been married a couple of moons she took his hand and placed it on her stomach. "I am with child," she said. All of the sudden Jaime saw all those things he had been missing, she seemed to glow from the inside and she was in love. He could not help but wonder if she loved the babe or him. In his surprise and confusion Jaime tried his best to act pleased, but it was hard he felt a little sick. From then on he distanced himself from her during the day and did his best to seem uninterested at night.

The chance to legally claim children made him sick knowing he had other children already, children who had been kept from him. Kept for good reason, he didn't want to be a father. That only made him feel guilty; guilty that he missed Cersei, guilty that he didn't want the children his wife so obviously wanted, guilty that he already had a family knowing the truth of it would kill Allyria. Jaime became so wrapped up in himself he again didn't notice the changes in his marriage, Allyria had begun to resent his coldness.

When she lost the baby Jaime couldn't help but be relieved, thinking that all could return as it once was, even if for a short while. Perhaps he would be better the next time, though a small part of him hoped there wouldn't be a next time. Allyria saw the relief and thought he truly did not care about his child, that he was cold like Tywin.

It hurt when she had kicked him out of the chamber, which was nothing to sleeping alone again, night after night. When he came to her sick bed during the day she would not speak to him. He came still, thinking it ridiculous, doing it only because Tyrion told him to. After a fortnight the maester said she could leave the chamber and Jaime made arrangements for her things to be brought back. The trinkets came but without the lady. Allyria stayed from his bed for almost another moon completely.

Jaime paced his room, he felt humiliated he knew the servants talked about it, was amazed his father hadn't said anything made some cutting remark at Jaime's inability to control his wife, Only Tyrion had kept him from forcing the girl back to his bed where she belonged. The soft short knock on the dark stained elm door drew him from his thoughts. He wrenched it open, the iron hinges creaking at their mistreatment. He looked at her a moment, she seemed frightened, and that softened him. Though it seemed unnatural to him, Jaime wished to hug her and as he did so, breathing in her scent of lavender and rose petals, he realized how much he missed her.

"I understand now," she said softly as her face was pressed into his chest. At second glance Jaime really saw her. She seemed fragile and out of place in the cavernous and ornate hallway. Holding her arms he noticed how light she felt, she had lost weight and her cheeks had become hollowed. She still wore a dress that had been made for her during pregnancy and she seemed swallowed by it. There were also circles under her eyes that in the light looked like faint bruises. "May I stay?" she asked, stepping slightly closer to him again.

All the tension and anger that had been building in him moments ago seemed to flee. "Please, please stay," he answered softly stepping out of the doorway and ushering her in. Jaime could not remember the last time he had said please, but he knew he had only ever said it to Cersei. He didn't think on that, nor it's significance, he thought only of his wife.

Jaime woke before first light, though the sky had become a light grey in it's anticipation. Beside him with an arm thrown over him lay his sleeping wife. Allyria's blonde hair streamed about her head like a large messy crown. Though Jaime felt quite warm she most have gotten a chill in the night, her left hand curled under her chin held loosely the furs from the bed.

Jaime waited a while, he was still an early riser, as he did so he debated the usefulness of telling her the truth about the servant. Eventually he decided it was better coming from him. He called her name but she only shifted and pulled herself further into the covers. "Allyria," he said again, nudging softly her sleeping figure. It worked she grumbled but opened her eyes. "We have to discuss something unpleasant,"

Allyria coughed as she sat up rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "What?" she asked hoarsely still half asleep.

Jaime pushed on undaunted. "While you were abed I looked for the servant who had been dismissed." Allyria smiled at him. "No don't be pleased I wish I could say I thought of it myself but I only did it because I thought you would forgive me if I found her a place." Allyria didn't stop smiling and in fact she kissed him. "I told you this is bad news, three days and neither Tyrion or I could find a trace. My father said she had been dismissed, I do not think that is the whole truth."

Allyria closed her eyes and stilled, finally drawing in a deep breath. "You think her dead." It wasn't a question, but Jaime nodded anyways. "No matter the reason I am glad you tried, and I am glad this news came from you." Allyria kissed him again, her hand lingering by his ear shortly, then she lay down and went back to sleep.

Cersei was sitting in outdoor pavilion that was connected to her chambers, she wore a rare genuine smile. In front of her on the table was a letter from her little bird at Casterly Rock. Cersei knew it by heart now. She didn't need to read it again but she picked up the shell Tommen had given her the day before, she had been using it as a weight, and read the words anyways. "The lady suffered a fall, she is still healthy but the babe is gone." The only way this could have gone better is if she had planned it herself, but she hadn't lifted a finger. Perhaps there were gods and they were smiling down on her.

For months Cersei had been planning how to end the little whore's life, from the minute she had heard of the pregnancy. It had to be perfect though not some mere cat's pawn hired at a tavern, it could never be traced back to Cersei. Jaime could be a fool sometimes and sentimental, he would not like it if she killed his wife no matter how little he cared for the girl. Cersei knew Jaime couldn't care for that horrible little girl, but it had shocked her that she was to be an aunt. She had honestly expected the marriage to never be consummated, Jaime had always been loyal to her. That more then anything was the reason the girl had to go, Cersei needed her brother.

For a moment Cersei forgot all the troubles she had, closed her eyes and felt the sun on her face. At least in this the gods had been kind. The hand of the king was dead and the little whore was no longer with child. Cersei for once, had nothing to do with either of these things. That nature seemed to be doing her bidding just seemed to be the rightful order of things to her.

_**I don't really like this chapter and it's the reason I haven't updated in awhile but I don't know how to fix it and at least the plot line it furthers is important I have tried to make it the best. **_


	10. Chapter 9

The ravens cawed for their food, the cacophony echoed miserably in the stone hall. Only the maester had patience for the noise, as such only he lived in this part of the castle. There were storerooms and many other functioning rooms but his was the only chamber, to him they were as much an intelligent being as any man or woman. He saw that each had habits and personalities; many just didn't take the time to see it. There looking at the old man was a large raven with feathers so black they almost appeared blue in the sunlight. He cawed like the rest of the birds but he had a purpose, as the maester drew near the bird stuck out his leg which was carrying a letter.

The letter was small but bore the royal seal of her grace the queen, with great haste the maester went to Lord Tywin's chambers. The lord's chambers were in the tallest tower and it looked out over the rest of castle and the sunset sea. The private quarters took up much of the tower as it contained a private library bath house and many other rooms, as well as a great solar upon entrance. Maester Creylen knocked before entering, the double doors went from floor to ceiling on either one facing each other was carved the house sigil. He pulled the iron latch that clicked as it opened.

The solar took up a whole floor except for the great spiral staircase that wound up the center of it. The whole western wall had large glass windows looking out over the port and the sea itself. As curtains there hung great rich red and gold tapestries representing the history of the Westerlands and their rulers the Lannisters back to the time of Lann the Clever. An ignorant outsider may be comforted by the room, with its beautiful views and fine furnishing, but Owain knew his master well. He had served house Lannister and the Rock since Lord Tywin's marriage to Lady Joanna. It was true the man had changed since his beloved wife's death, but not very much.

Off to the right and set away from the window was a large circular table, it was at this table that much of the personal business of running the Rock was done. At this moment, like many moments Lord Tywin sat at the head with his younger brother to the right.

Kevan was a Lannister through and through, but where his brother was a leader, he was a follower, a born soldier. Kevan never resented his brother for it; Lord Tywin would never find a man more loyal or more supportive then his own brother. Kevan had brought honor to the family name, and was a good general in his own right but he did not seek for power. As such Tywin kept him close, no one knew as much about the Lord of the Rock as Kevan.

"What is it?" Tywin called to the nearing maester not looking up from his papers. "A letter from your daughter the queen my Lord." "As if I have another," the lord replied still not looking at the maester. He held his arm out for the letter and when given it wordlessly dismissed Creylen with a wave of his hand.

Tywin split the seal with a finger and began silently reading the letter. It took but a moment and that seemed almost too much for Lord Tywin's face took on a bored look. "Kevan," he looked up at his younger brother, "Drag Tyrion from whatever hole he is in. I must speak with him, bring Jaime, my son as well."

Jaime stood quietly at the back of the sept; he hadn't been in this room since he was nine. He had comforted Cersei after their mother's death, he found it passing strange that he was here again with his wife as she grieved the loss of a child.

Allyria spent some of her free time here every few days, she never seemed to pray, Cersei had prayed. In fact Allyria didn't seem to do much of anything in here to Jaime's view; she stood in front of the statue of the stranger. After a few moments, or sometimes several minutes, she would leave, never saying anything, never moving. Jaime didn't always follow her, she didn't know he came too he turned and left before she could see. Jaime was trying to understand her pain, he knew he never really could; even if he had loved the child he had not carried it or felt it move in his belly.

To the outside world things were as they were before, if it were not for the frequent visits to the sept Jaime would think the same. She smiled and laughed like she did before the accident, she made no mention of the loss or of any future children. They slept side by side again, the part Jaime had most missed. More often then not he awoke to her curled against him, head on his chest, faced framed by her hair.

Jaime couldn't help but compare her to Cersei, though he tried not to, it was unfair to Allyria. Though he saw more clearly now the faults of his sister and his relationship to her, he loved her all the same. Though he cared for Allyria, in truth wanted nothing but happiness for her, he was aware that he could not give to her his heart.

Jaime felt a warm hand on his shoulder and it startled him, forgetting where he was he began to reach for his sword. "Easy son," it was his uncle Kevan. Jaime had, had many uncles each great in their own right but only Kevan remained and Jaime appreciated Kevan and loved him too. "Word has come from the capital, from your sister. I am to look for Tyrion your father has sent for you." Jaime nodded before making way to his father; it was never good to keep him waiting. Kevan stayed behind a moment, his heart was softer for he had children of his, though he was lucky enough to have them all born and still alive his heart ached a little for the young wife.

Jaime found his father, who hadn't moved, his presence only acknowledge with "good from Lord Tywin who glanced quickly up before returning to his papers. "Your sister writes," he pushed the letter across the table towards where Jaime was standing. He would not waste words when he had worked so hard to teach Jaime to read.

"So Ned Stark will be the new hand of the King, he will find the job as unpleasant as he is. What does this matter to us?" Jaime asked his father glibly, he had never cared for the grim faced warden of the north even less so after it was him who found Jaime during the sack of Kings Landing.

"We will remind the king who his real allies are, or at the very least remind the king how much he owes to house Lannister. You and Tyrion are to ride with your sister to the north." Tywin said.

Later Jaime and his squire were packing, to meet with the king's party they would have to leave tomorrow. They would be making longer distance but the royal party went so slow as they travelled with the Queen, the children and all her attendants. Jaime's party would not have the disadvantage; everyone riding with him would be a good horseman, even Tyrion. Jaime expected to meet with the King after three days of riding.

"How long will it take you to reach Winterfell?" Allyria asked. She had come in a few moments ago and mocked Jaime at his inability to fold clothing. She had taken everything out of his bag and began to rework it. Jaime was fascinated by her hands as she took large garments and made them into tiny neat squares, she was not quite finished but already he could see there would be far more room in the satchel then before.

"I expect it will take at least a month for them to make it from King's Landing to Winterfell. Depending on where we meet them it may take a fortnight, perhaps a week more." Jaime was not looking forward to this trip, being away from the capital had been far more enjoyable then Jaime had anticipated, though he did long to see his sister again.

"If you stay there any length of time it will likely be two moons before I see you again." Allyria said softly. She looked radiant in her red dress and hair loose. A small curl bent towards her lips and shuttered as she spoke. Allyria never wore much jewelry just the lion's head pendant Jaime had given her that had belonged to his mother; he liked to think his mother would have cared for Allyria even if she had once intended him to marry Elia Martell. Even Tywin had approved of his choice and complimented his daughter in law. She wore a silver two fingered ring of a long sword on her right hand. It was thin and was barely noticeable, the only nod to her former house.

"I suppose you are right." Jaime said with a sly smile. He knew what she had meant, and he felt flattered that she would miss him when he was gone.

Later as they lay together breathless and hot Jaime took Allyria in his arms, as he had always longed to do with Cersei. He kissed her head and stroked her hair; he loved how it smelled; clean and fresh, like she was but also like flowers. She bathed every day in lavender oil, it left a subtle fragrance on her skin that belonged to only her. With his wife's, and he liked that she was his alone, head on his chest and her hand over his heart Jaime began to drift off to sleep. Right before he did so he thought he heard her say, "I love you Jaime Lannister." Instead of being trouble he went to sleep with a smile.

Authors's note

What should Jaime's squire's name be? I know the names of the ones from the later books but that comes way after this point. Did he have a squire and I just completely blanked on his name? What do you guys think? Thanks to Potterheads09 for telling me the real Maester's name, I should have remembered but it's been a while since I read the first book. P.S. it is super nerve-wracking describing Casterly Rock I know we all have this picture in our head and we think it should look a certain way, as I get further a long I hope you guys like my vision for it, also if you have suggestions on how it would look let me know! I could use the help. I hope a link on my profile of what I am using as an outward appearance Thanks for reading!


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